


Have Yourself a Charmie Little Christmas

by Mary1991



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: Don't Judge Me, First Kiss, Holidays, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Stranded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21812914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mary1991/pseuds/Mary1991
Summary: Timmy meets a mysterious yet handsome stranger while working his dead end, seasonal candy shop job. His night doesn't exactly go according to plan.THIS IS MY FIRST FIC EVER SO PLEASE BE KIND! I love these boys so much and wanted to be part of this Big Bang in some way :) Enjoy!Big, huge thank you to my beta, @cosmicfragments for making this into an actual story! I would not have been confident in it without you!
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Comments: 18
Kudos: 71
Collections: CMBYN Big Bang 2019





	Have Yourself a Charmie Little Christmas

No matter how many years Timmy has worked at this dead end seasonal job, he just can’t get used to the repeat of sugar coated Christmas songs as they echo through the mall. 

After dropping out of college, Timmy’s mom insisted on him getting a job, as any supportive - but NOT pushy - mother would. That was 5 years ago and since then he’s started to blossom as an actor Off-Broadway, but of course, that doesn’t always pay the bills. So, to supplement his income, Timmy has been begrudgingly putting up with the sickly-sweet confections at the Crema-rie. 

This Italian inspired candy and dessert shop specializes in a peach filled chocolate bar that customers can’t seem to get enough of. Though it’s a strange concoction, the owner, Luca, seems to have some sort of inside joke when he talks about it. Timmy doesn’t push the subject because he can tell he probably doesn’t want to know the full details. 

Although Luca is a bit eccentric, he treats Timmy well and is very proud of his little store in the corner of the mall. He’s from Crema: a little Italian town that is the store’s namesake, and Timmy loves to think that he’s supporting a small business like Luca’s.

Though he complains about working during the holidays, Timmy knows the job could be a lot worse. He has friends who hold up doors at places like Best Buy and Macy’s on Black Friday so the adrenaline-fueled dude bros don’t bust them down just to save a few dollars on an unnecessarily large television. 

The other less than glamorous part of this job is the uniform: he is, quite literally, a candy striper, complete with a red and white vertically striped button up t-shirt and matching trousers.  
To be fair, he DID try on the pants with a plain white t-shirt and a nice pair of combat boots and didn’t really hate it, on the contrary. He’s always had a penchant for extravagant fashion combos. However, his lack of confidence didn’t really let him go out in public while wearing it.

Tonight is not terribly busy, especially being the week before Christmas. The usual Sharons, Karens and Carols who try to sneak as many free samples as possible are probably at home, cutting their fingers on the miles of wrapping paper and burning their hands on the Christmas turkeys and pumpkin pies.

On this particular night, Timmy is sitting behind the counter, twiddling on his phone and about to put in his earbuds when a customer walks in. 

He must be well over 6 feet tall, broad shoulders, beautifully groomed hair, slight scruff covering his cheeks, piercing blue eyes and…oops. Timmy realizes the man is suddenly standing right in front of him, talking to him, while he’s left staring with his mouth agape and no idea what the man is talking about. 

With the risk of looking like a complete buffoon, Timmy shakes his head to clear his mind and subtly wipes the collecting drool at the corners of his lips. At least he hopes he’s being subtle.

“I’m sorry, what did you say? I had my headphones in,” Timmy says, even though they are clearly in his hand.  
Seemingly amused, with a small smile on his lips, the customer lets out a low and sultry laugh that makes Timmy’s skin prickle.

“It’s alright, it’s my fault for coming in so late. I was wondering if you had any Peaches and Crema chocolates left? They’re my mom’s favorite and I really can’t go empty handed to the Christmas dinner.”

Mom, you say? No girlfriend, wife? Boyfriend?  
Stop it, Timmy. You just met the guy. You don’t even know what his sexual preferences are.

“We do have more, but this is my last dozen for the night actually. Hopefully that’s enough for you to bring,” Timmy says, secretly hoping the man needs more so that he has to come back the next day. 

Not pathetic, just…hopeful.

“A dozen should be fine, thank you. We usually just have a handful of family members who are already full by the time dessert comes around anyway.” Timmy feels a small pang of disappointment spreading in his chest, quickly deterred by his mind bashing him for hoping something from someone he doesn’t even know.

“One dozen Peaches and Crema chocolates, coming right up!” he says with a small grin, shaking his curls the way he knows makes certain people weak. 

He swears he can see the beginning of a wink coming from the other man as he turns to grab a box for the chocolates.

As soon as he turns back around to open the chocolates’ case, a sudden and rather loud thud erupts from the roof and the electricity in the store, as well as the rest of the mall, shuts off. To make things worse, the metal security gate shuts with a loud bang.

Timmy knows exactly what’s happening, as this same event had occurred 2 years ago. Right in the middle of a mad rush the day before a particularly cold Valentine’s Day, the mall’s generator had frozen to the point of not working. Since the gate to the store locked from the outside, he had been stuck in the 500 square foot store with 15 other people for an hour and a half before the maintenance people had been able to make the backup generator roar to a start. 

He’s in the same situation now, except it’s just him and this mysterious, handsome stranger trapped in the store.

Well, I guess there are worse ways to spend an evening.

“What the hell?” the stranger had said in the meantime, obviously taken aback.

“The generator blew. This happened a few years back, looks like we might be here for a while,” he says, with a subtle smirk. Well, he really hopes he’s being subtle.

The man sighs and looks down with a disappointed look, obviously not wanting to be stuck with a skinny theater kid from Manhattan. 

Not that he knows all of that already, Timmy. Chill! 

“How long do you suppose it might be until we get out?” 

“Not really sure. It was a couple of hours last time, so I’m sure it’ll be the same this time since nobody seems to be prepared here. The security guards have even gone home for the night so there’s nobody to get us out, unfortunately,” Timmy says, suddenly feeling slightly guilty but also embarrassed for the state the mall is in.

“Alright, well, what do you suggest we do with our time?” the stranger inquires, glancing at Timmy with his piercing blue eyes.

He shudders, again, wondering how someone could have such an effect on him.  
“I guess we should get to know each other? I’m Timmy, or Timothée if that doesn’t sound too pretentious.”

“I know a bit about pretentiousness, unfortunately. My name’s Armie, short for Armand. My family’s your typical WASP-y, football and baseball loving All-American  
group,” he says with a grimace. “Don’t hold it against me.”

“I’m not one to judge. Not everyone’s a reflection of where they come from. Also I realized I’m being terribly rude…would you like to join me behind the counter? The only seats are back here and I might need help getting rid of these candies before they go bad,” Timmy explains, realizing the refrigeration has gone out as well. 

“Ah, so you’re saying I get free samples?” 

“Yup! Consider yourself lucky, I have to shoo off all of the old ladies with a broom sometimes, because they keep coming back for them,” Timmy groans, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. 

“I think I can consider myself lucky for a couple of other reasons,” Armie says with a smirking glance.

If that isn’t one of the cheesiest lines that Timmy has ever heard, he doesn’t know what it is. But he’d rather hear a cheesy line than none at all, so he smiles back, blushing intensely. 

He swiftly walks over to the swinging door to let Armie behind the counter. What he didn’t realize is how little room there really is back there, especially after 6’5” Armie squeezes himself past Timmy. Not that he’s complaining, of course.

Armie smells like freshly pressed cotton and just a hint of aftershave, which must be left over from the morning, seen the fair amount of stubble. 

Stop staring, Timmy…and for God’s sakes stop sniffing him! 

“After you,” Timmy motions to one of the swiveling stools by the register. “Let me serve you a nice sampling of…well. Not much. Sorry, we were almost closed so we don’t have a lot left,” Timmy admits, hoping to seem charming to his overly attractive guest.

Armie smiles at him. “No worries,” he affirms, as he takes a seat on the almost too small stool. “I’ll take what I can get if it’s free. I have an embarrassingly big sweet tooth.”

Timmy’s heart warms at that: it makes Armie look like a big, goofy kid and a bit less intimidating, much to Timmy’s relief.

“Ok, great! As you know we have the Peaches and Crema, we also have some dark chocolate and cherry truffles, a pistachio infused ganache which is my personal favorite, and once slice of Italian meringue cake left. Sounds good?” Timmy asks.

Armie stares for a second, not knowing where to start. “That sounds amazing, thank you very much. I hope you’re helping me with this.”

“I’m absolutely helping you with this, you don’t even have to ask,” Timmy says while sliding onto the stool next to Armie, hoping he’s not the only one realizing how close they’re sitting, their knees almost touching, making his heart stutter.

Timmy comes back with a single, large glass platter with the leftover goodies and a couple of plastic forks. Without asking, he places it on their knees, knowing all too well that means their legs have to stay close to keep the platter balanced.

“So,” Armie starts while finishing a bite of cake, “French, I’m assuming? Timothée isn’t a name you hear too often around here.”

“You guessed it. My dad’s French. We split our time between New York and France growing up. Now I’m here full-time, and yes, I do still live with my parents while working as an actor and here and trying to save up for my own place, but you know, this is Manhattan and everything is so small and expensive and…shit, I’m rambling,” Timmy mutters under an embarrassed grin. “I’m so sorry, I ramble when I’m nervous.”

Armie looks at him “It’s ok, really. I get it. I would have asked you about all of that anyway,” a small nervous laugh escapes him, “It’s good to get it out of the way” he adds.

“Thank you,” Timmy replies, once again relieved that Armie hasn’t deemed him completely insane yet. “What about you? Are you from the City?” 

“Not exactly. I grew up in California but moved here with my mom when my parents got divorced. It was a difficult adjustment, but after being here for so long I can’t imagine being anywhere else,” Armie explains with a eased expression on his face. Timmy wants to frame that face and keep it on his wall.

“Well I think that’s admirable, being able to adjust like that when you’re young. What do you do that helps you afford a dozen Peaches and Crema?” Timmy jokes, although it really seems like Armie is fairly well off. 

“I’m actually in Wall Street,” Armie supplies, seemingly disappointed. “Between you and me? I’ve always wanted to act, so I think you’re the admirable one,” he adds, looking back up into Timmy’s eyes, waiting for a response.

Timmy looks back, his breath hitching for a second after hearing such a compliment from a man like him. “Thank you, but obviously not much has come from it since I’m still working here.”

Armie nods, understandingly, like he’s found himself in the same situation before. “I know, but at least you’re trying. You’re doing what you need to do to achieve your dreams, and that’s certainly admirable.” 

“Well thank you, really, I appreciate that. It’s hard to get through sometimes, but once I get on that stage, it’s all worth it,” Timmy says with a far off glance, getting lost in thoughts about his current project.

He snaps back to the present when he suddenly feels a large hand cup his face and a thumb slide across the corner of his mouth. He stares right at Armie as it happens, while his eyes flutter and his heart skips a bit. 

As soon as he starts to lean in ever so slightly, Armie puts his hand down. “Sorry,” he croaks, “You had a bit of chocolate on your mouth,” he says, his voice low.

Timmy blinks while leaning back, cursing himself for thinking anything else could have happened. “Oh, it’s fine. Thank you. I’ve come home more times than I care to count with the same problem,” he says, trying to make light of the situation.

They sit in silence for what seem to be ages, simply staring at each other and waiting. When Timmy realizes the tray is empty, he gets up to clean it off and put it away. He feels Armie’s eyes on his back, analyzing his moves the whole time. 

When Timmy goes back to his seat, he glances down at his AirPods and has an idea. “You like Frank Sinatra? I know he’s kind of old school but his Christmas music is the only kind I can listen to without going completely insane over the holidays.”

Armie smiles, somewhat surprised by his request, “I actually love Frank Sinatra. The Way You Look Tonight is my favorite, but my mom would play his Christmas music nonstop growing up, so I have fond memories.”

“Good,” Timmy says, handing Armie one of the earbuds. “Follow me,” he adds while going out from behind the counter to the center of the store. He takes out his phone and starts Sinatra’s version of “Jingle Bells” and, throwing all caution to the wind, starts turning and swaying to the chorus of people spelling out the name of the song. On a particular turn, he notices Armie staring and grinning with his arms crossed and leaning against the display case. “You’re not going to dance with me?” Timmy asks with a fake pout.

“Oh, yes, I’ll dance with you, but not to this. Give me your phone,” he commands, suddenly taking several steps closer to Timmy. Armie works on the phone for a few seconds, then looks back up at Timmy while the low and slow beginning notes of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” start.

Before he realizes what’s happening, Armie puts his hands around Timmy’s waist and motions him to put his arms around the taller man’s neck. 

Timmy’s heart is beating a million times a minute, never having such a romantic thing happen to him before. He’s almost sure it’s going to pop out of his chest pretty soon if it keeps up this rate.

As they sway back and forth in the middle of the still dark store, Armie starts humming the song into Timmy’s ear. It’s a heady mix – Armie in one ear and Frank Sinatra in the other. He could get used to this. A moment later though, Armie pulls back slightly and stares at Timmy’s lips and this time, it’s obvious what he wants. As Timmy parts his lips slightly and leans into Armie for the second time tonight, after a barely there brush of each other’s lips, there’s another huge thud and all of the power comes back on.

It startles the two men out of their magical bubble and the two are left staring at each other again, not quite sure what to do next.

“I guess I better shut the store down,” Timmy says woefully and quietly. “I just have to count down the drawer and sweep the floor. You don’t have to wait for me or anything. The gate should be able to go up now,” he adds, truly hoping Armie doesn’t want to leave yet.

“I don’t mind waiting,” Armie says, much to Timmy’s delight. “I’ve waited this long already, haven’t I?” He grins, reclaiming his place against the display case.

“If you insist,” Timmy jokes and smiles, heading behind the counter to start putting away the till. As he finishes, he walks to the back, grabbing his coat and gloves. He looks in the bathroom mirror, trying to tame some of his wild curls. Once finished, he finally turns off the lights of the store and makes his way to the front. He finds Armie, still waiting for him, typing something on his phone and smiling to himself.

“Ready?” he asks, and when Armie looks up, he’s reminded of how terribly good-looking the man is.

“Only if you are. Let me walk you to your car, it’s late and I need to repay you somehow for those chocolates.”

“Like I said, they were going to go bad anyway, so someone should have been able to enjoy them,” Timmy murmurs at him.

“And enjoy them I most certainly did,” Armie says as he opens the mall’s door for Timmy.

Despite the quickly dropping temperature, they slowly saunter outside to the nearly empty parking lot, not wanting to part ways just yet. Timmy brushes his now-gloved hand against Armie’s, hoping that he would get the hint. With an amused glance, Armie takes his hand as they continue to walk to Timmy’s car.  
As they approach the driver’s side, they face each other, staring in anticipation, waiting for the other one to say something.

With a small surge of confidence, Timmy takes a deep breath.

“Well, that was an interesting first date,” he says. He cringes and almost immediately regrets it, not knowing if this is too soon or if he should assume anything about their earlier interaction.

Armie seems amused by his assumption. “Date, you say? Hmm, that’s disappointing. I’d like our first date to be one where the electricity doesn’t go out…maybe drinks? Tomorrow?” he asks with his award-winning grin.

Timmy blushes, partially from the cold partially from the relief that Armie seems to enjoy his first date comment.

“It is tomorrow,” Timmy almost whispers, with a slight laugh in his voice. He glances at Armie, who has been staring at him with suddenly hooded eyes but somehow still fixed into Timmy’s.

Timmy notices that it has started to flurry outside. With another boost of confidence from the romance of the atmosphere, Timmy slowly moves his arms up around Armie’s neck and leans in on his tippy toes. Armie seems to like this idea and reciprocates by letting his hands rest on Timmy’s hips and leans in as well, never breaking eye contact. Timmy closes his eyes only when their lips make contact, not wanting to miss any part of their first kiss. Despite being below freezing outside, Armie’s lips are soft and warm, while Timmy is sure his own are thin and chapped.

That doesn’t seem to stop Armie, who then opens his mouth ever so slightly to invite Timmy’s tongue in. Timmy greedily accepts the invitation by sticking his tongue in for a taste, which is still slightly chocolate-y and delicious. Before he can get carried away, Armie pulls back, much to Timmy’s disappointment.

“What? Why?” Timmy whines.

“We have plenty of time for that, believe me,” Armie says, in almost a growl, “but right now I’m freezing my ass off. Why don’t you follow me to my place? I’m only 10 minutes away.”

“Yes, please,” Timmy says with a shy grin. They only parts ways after a few more soft pecks on the lips. Armie sets off across the parking lot to his all black Range Rover…as if he couldn’t get any more impressive. 

With a deep sigh, Timmy gets into his car, never breaking his contact with the man that turned his world upside down in one night. He then grins to himself as Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas comes on the radio, a sure sign to tell him that this was real. A warmth in his heart spread to the rest of him and he is even more grateful for the little candy shop in the mall.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :) If you leave a comment please be nice! I appreciate it!!


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